It might have been the draft from the window which made her gather the hazy-green mantle closer about her and glance over her shoulder; but a grim feeling came to Ronicky Doone that the reason why the girl trembled and her eyes grew wide, was that the mention of "the man who smiles" had brought the thought of him into the room like a breath of cold wind.
"Don't you see," she went on gently, "that I like you?
It's the first and the last time that I'm going to see you, so I can talk.

I know you're honest, and I know you're brave.

Why, I can see your whole character in the way you've stayed by your friend; and, if there's a possible way of helping you, I'll do it.

But you must promise me first that you'll never cross the man with the sneer, as you call him." "There's a sort of a fate in it," said Ronicky slowly.

"I don't think I could promise.